


She tastes like apple juice and peach

by consultinggalpals



Category: Rab C Nesbitt (TV)
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Multi, Museum Date, Rating May Change, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Sexy dance, Trans Female Character, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-10-14 20:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20607191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultinggalpals/pseuds/consultinggalpals
Summary: There's a pub, just around the corner from your office, a pretty standard affair of dark wood and sticky flooring. You've been here for several Christmas dos and lately, it's been the perfect place to come for a quiet pint and some eye-candy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mundycide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mundycide/gifts).

> This is the most self-indulgent rotting fluff I have ever written and the audience for it is exactly three people (myself included) BUT I AM VALID AND I'M GOING TO LIVE MY TRUTH
> 
> credit to my coworker for bringing 'karen from finance' to my attention, because it's the best drag name ever
> 
> title from Dodie - She

"Thank god it's Friday, eh?" Karen from finance shoulders past you on her way to the elevator. You force a smile and a noncommittal noise. You've been staring at the same screen for eight hours, your tights itch in some unnameable place and if anybody else tries to put themselves between you and a well deserved pint of lager, you might just be forced to murder.

There's a pub, just around the corner from your office, a pretty standard affair of dark wood and sticky flooring. You've been here for several Christmas dos and lately, it's been the perfect place to come for a quiet pint and some eye-candy.

The bartender is new, she moved to London just over two weeks ago from Scotland and, there is no easy way to say this, but you're head over heels for her. Her name is Davina and every time she smiles it feels like a supernova just lit up the whole goddamn bar. Of course you haven't done anything about it because you're useless like that, but you still get the feeling that she notices you. Her eyes find yours every time you walk in and more often than not, she has a pint sitting in front of you before you even manage to find a stool.

Tonight something feels different. Davina looks frazzled when she finally reaches your side of the bar to place a coaster in front of you.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm all over the place tonight," she says as she starts pulling you a pint.

"No worries," you say. "I'm not in a rush over here." You smile at her and she bends her head, hiding her own smile behind a cascade of curls. You really, _really_ want to run your hands through them, tuck a strand behind her ear. You take a quick gulp of your beer instead.

"What's got you so flustered anyway? Any asshole whose ass I have to kick?"

She laughs fully now, but it's still delightfully breathy.

"Oh no, love. I can take care of those chumps." She points at the other side of the bar with her head, where a cluster of men is not very discreetly ogling at her. You know she's right, you've seen her almost dislocating one of their elbows in a game of arm wrestling. Still, a pointed murderous look never goes amiss.

"Suppose I'm just a bit tired, is all." She sighs. "And a bit homesick, truth be told."

You nod. "London will do that to you."

A customer calls to her. "Anyway," she smiles at you (and the sun bursts through the clouds again). "Thanks for checking in love, next round is on me."

You tip your glass at her and watch her move away.


	2. Chapter 2

You're standing outside the pub with your phone in your hand, trying to decide if you feel like running to catch the last train or if you should just resign to the night bus, when the pub's door opens and she steps out. 

"Leaving already?" She's not wearing a coat and she hugs herself against the night wind. There's a quirk to her lips that makes you think what she's really saying is _are you leaving _me_ already?_

You swallow past the knot in your throat, past the light buzz of the beer. You could stay, you _want_ to stay, but there's a nervousness at the pit of your stomach that eats away at your confidence. Picking up beautiful women at the pub just isn't something that happens to you.

"Yeah," you turn fully towards her. "Had a pretty long day and I'm knackered."

She looks at you intently for a few seconds and then asks, "Can I borrow your phone?"

Without even thinking about it, your hand is stretching out, offering it to her.

She delicately picks it out of your hand and types something in it. As she steps closer to hand it back to you, she says, "Give me a ring sometime, I would love to get a drink somewhere that's not work."

Before you can fully process what's happening, she leans over and gently pecks you on the corner of your mouth. She places the phone back in your numb fingers and wordlessly goes back inside.

You look down and stare at the number saved under the name _Davina_, followed by a winking emoticon.


	3. Chapter 3

You spend the next morning in bed, swiping through your phone's whole catalogue of emojis.

For the moment, you only have the bare outline of a text: "Hi, this is me. Would love to meet later this afternoon if you're free. Maybe at the Tate?" and then you're stuck because you want to convey that this is a date, but you don't want to sound presumptuous.

You've narrowed it down to the blushing smiling emoji and the one with the open hands.

In the end you don't add either and press send before immediately chucking the phone across the bed.

When she replies (only twenty-five minutes later, your besotted brain notices), it's an acknowledgment of time and place. And then she goes and adds an x at the end, forcing you to scream soundlessly in your pillow.


	4. Chapter 4

When you get to the museum, she's sitting on a bench next to the steps. Her hair is tied up in a loose ponytail and she's wearing a cream coat with a bright burgundy scarf.

She hasn't spotted you yet, so you get to drink her profile in, the sharpness of her jawline, the slope of her nose, the pout of her lips.

You call her name and when she looks up with a smile and a tilt of her head, you can feel delicious knots tightening in your stomach.

"Hi you."

She stands up and she's just that much taller than you that your eyes have to travel upwards to meet hers. She bends in for a hug and you get a whiff of her hair, the fruity smell of her shampoo filling your nostrils and making you dizzy.

You have just enough time to quickly tighten your arms around her waist before she's pulling away. There is no time for you to feel disappointed though, because immediately she's offering you her hand.

"Shall we?"

You grasp her long fingers in yours, feel the pressure of a ring against your palm and you both start walking up the steps.


	5. Chapter 5

The two of you stroll idly along the galleries, stopping every so often to look closer at a painting. There is a comfortable silence hanging between you two, broken only by soft voiced remarks about art and beauty and other such nonsense. Sometimes you say something that makes her laugh.

You feel relaxed and light-headed in a way you've never felt on a date before. You can't stop smiling.

The two of you stop in front of a painting. You know this one, you saw it in art history books when you were at school, on postcards and notebooks and posters ever since then.

It's a portrait of Persephone, caught in the split second after having eaten a single forbidden grain of pomegranate, the fruit still held loosely in her grasp. She looks off in the distance, the lines of her beautiful face set with determination.

"She reminds me of you," you blurt out.

Next to you Davina cocks her head, inquisitively.

"Is it just the crazy curls or...?"

You smile. "And the beautiful hands, for sure."

She squeezes yours gently. "What else?"

Your tear your eyes away from the painting and towards the real goddess standing next to you.

"Her eyes, you can tell she doesn't regret biting into that pomegranate for even a second."

She steps closer now, her warm breath brushes against your lips.

"Would that make you the pomegranate seed then?"

You reach up with your free hand to cup her cheek and bring her in for a sweet kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the painting in question is Dante Gabriel Rossetti's [Proserpine](https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/rossetti-proserpine-n05064)


	6. Chapter 6

You're sitting in the museum's café, sharing an overpriced slice of carrot cake between the two of you. Under the table, your foot rests lightly against her ankle. You can't stop smiling.

"What are you thinking about?" she says, before delicately putting a bite of cake in her mouth.

You hide your smile behind your cup of tea.

"Nothing much. Just, really happy to be here."

"Me too. Took you long enough to ask me out."

You almost choke on your tea. "How- how long...?"

She laughs, but it's a kind laugh.

"First time I saw you, you were with your work mates and you looked _so _uncomfortable. You kept doing this fake laugh and checking your phone. Wished I could whisk you away there and then."

You remember that evening. Not because of anything remarkable your colleagues might have said or done. In fact you don't even remember who was in the group.

What you do remember is her, _Davina_, in her flowy shirt and pencil skirt, smiling sympathetically at you when your eyes met across the bar. It's so clichéd but your first thought was_ that is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen_.

Of course it took you a couple more days before you even had the courage to ask her name.

You reach out your hand to cradle hers across the table.

"It was worth the wait."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a Christmas present for mundycide but alas, time management is a bitch. Anyway, new year, same Davina thirst. Enjoy!

Anyone can tell you that winter in London is predictably dark, windy and wet. That's just inevitable. It doesn't make it any less miserable to be out in it, though.

You're rushing home after work, your umbrella forgotten on the tube (it would have been useless against the practically horizontal rain anyway). You let yourself in with a shiver, shaking water from your hair and kicking your waterlogged shoes off at the bottom of the stairs. With a smile, you notice that the light on the landing is on. There is also some vaguely familiar music coming from the kitchen.

It still doesn't feel real that Davina is here, an inextricable part of your life for months now.

You make your way up the stairs, a pleasant warmth chasing away the dreariness of the outside world. You only pause once in confusion when you realise the music playing is Mariah Carrey's _All I want for Christmas is you_. When you push the door open, you see her standing in front of the stove, humming snatches of the song while her hips move along to the music. Your eyebrows almost disappear into your hair.

She hears you step in, turns around with a beam and steps closer to peck you on the cheek. She waves towards the table without a word. You shrug your jacket off and drop into a chair, while she continues to half-dance, half-busy herself with dinner. When Mariah's voice fades and George Michael picks up, you just can't hold it in anymore.

"You do know it's the," your eyes travel to the calendar on the fridge. "9th of January."

"Hmm," she acknowledges. "That's why it was on sale."

You didn't even know they sold that kind of costume but in retrospect, of course they do. You just never knew anybody who owned a sexy Santa Claus outfit. No, hold on, not just _a _sexy Santa outfit...

"Is it actually the one from..."

"Yup." Her mischievous smile never fails to send shivers down your spine. "I've even practiced the dance, wanna see it?"

She pivots and presses forward on her iPod before you can do more than give a series of enthusiastic nods.

_Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock._

Davina moves slowly and deliberately, that same crooked smile on her glossy lips. You haven't watched the movie in years so you can't really say if it was ever meant to be _that_ overtly sexual, but when Davina swings her hips low and slaps her bare thighs your brain just decides to peace out.

With every step of the dance she gets closer, until she is very much almost giving you a personal lap dance. Your mouth feels like sandpaper and your hands hitch to grab her by the hips and close the final distance between you two.

She bends closer, her arms taut on either side of the chair you're sitting on.

"It does get a bit repetitive after a while and there's a whole gag were Gretchen kicks the stereo into the audience, so forgive me if I cut it a bit short."

You snort and pull her into a kiss. She settles into your lap, the heat building up until you're both breathless and your hands are almost completely up Davina's skirt.

"Should we, um, take this to the bedroom?"

"I did make dinner..."

"Should have thought about it before you seduced me with a sexy dance."

She laughs breathily before hopping off of you. She holds a hand out and pulls you out of the kitchen and into the rest of the flat.


End file.
